


Building Burnt Bridges

by Nyxie



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-11-30 00:58:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxie/pseuds/Nyxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of them was happy. One of them was still pushing forward. One of them still had someone to hold.</p><p>The other was heartbroken. The other was sitting in the dust where he'd been left. The other had nothing but his own sadness as company.</p><p>How stereotypical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Building Burnt Bridges

It was was your stereotypical, crash-and-burn relationship.

There was him, the foolish romantic with the puppy dog eyes, and Gerard, the suave one with a tongue that was as good with words as it was at kissing. They went from acquaintances to friends to lovers in what seemed like the blink of an eye, but like they say, time flies when you're having fun. They were perfect, at least that's what it seemed like to Frank, and maybe he was getting just a little too clingy to Gerard. But he was in love, so it didn't matter, right?

Nothing perfect ever stuck around forever, though, he knew that from experience, and their relationship was no exception. Maybe he got a little too needy or maybe Gerard got a little too sure of himself - either way, they ended up fighting. Suddenly instead of cuddling and kissing and being a happy couple, they were screaming and yelling and fighting and then he was gone and they were over, just like that. Gerard went on his merry way with some other, nicer and prettier and less annoying guy and he was left behind, his heart torn out of his chest and tossed to the ground like it was nothing.

One of them was happy with someone else, while the other was completely heartbroken. Just like all those sad, teenage breakup songs.

Every sad song on the radio would make him slide down the wall, dragging his knees up into a ball, placing his head in his hands, fingers entangling themselves in his hair. He had managed to stop sobbing violently each time, but he still had to shut his eyes tight and focus every ounce of his being into not breaking down.

It was cliche, he knew, but it was like he was an addict trying to come clean.

Gerard was a drug. Frank had never actually done drugs before - okay, maybe once, but he was really drunk and although it was fun at the time, he had hated the feeling of lost self-control when he woke up. When he _had_ come to, Frank hadn't craved more of whatever it was he had taken, but this time was different. The drug was different. This time, he wanted more. He needed his fix, a hit - and he needed it badly

Some addicts are incredible successful in their recovery - the ditch the drug, and never look back. Others, especially the heavy addicts, aren't so lucky. 

So what do they do?

They die. And that was exactly how Frank planned to get Gerard back.

It was an easy enough plan. He had sat there in the car, having managed to drag himself off the floor after another fit of crippling despair, and mulled it over for a while, the sky growing a dark grey color outside as he did. Just one simple text, and it kicked into action: "I'm going off the bridge." He waited ten minutes or so, not expecting a reply, just giving him time to react. To decipher the text, to start moving. Then Frank started the car, and drove out onto the gloomy road.

As he drove, his speed picked up. None of the speed limits crossed his mind - he doubted anyone would be out to bust him for speeding today. Besides, this wasn't some joyride; he knew exactly where he was going, already had its image in his mind. It was a simple bridge, quiet, part wood barrier part Tarmac road. It was in a forest-y part of town and hung over a river, a dark, icy river that everyone knew you'd have a hard time getting out of if you were unlucky enough to come off the bridge and fall into. 

Oh, look, it was raining. How nice to go out with everything gleaming.

For a split second, he considered the thought him not being there, and just driving straight through the barrier and plunging to his death - that wouldn't happen, though, because of course, he would be there. He was always there. He did almost feel bad for tricking Gerard like this, but there was no other way of getting him back without the threat of drowning himself beneath the river. After all, Gerard would never let a pretty face go to waste, even if it was his not-so-pretty one.

He had reached the bridge. The rain restricted his vision and for a moment, he thought he wasn't there and that he was really, actually, truly going to do it, going to kill himself. But before the panic could set in a pair of headlights appeared through the blurry grey, then the shadow of a car, the the figure of a familiar man standing beside it.

A small smile spread across Frank's face. He had been right.

He slammed on the brakes at the last minute, making the car spin itself sideways as the forces took over. The thought crossed his mind that he might hit him - oh, wouldn't that be just their luck? - but he didn't, and the car slid to a screeching halt in total action movie style. He went to get out and head to say, he got out of that car pretty fast, but Gerard was faster. Suddenly he was shoved against the car with Gerard's fist clenched around the collar of his shirt, pinning him there.

"What the fuck was that?! Frank, are you insane?! Throwing yourself off a bridge! Why the fuck would you even do that?!"

"Gerard, I thought-"

"What about your mom? What about your dad? What about-"

"I thought you didn't care."

Suddenly, he froze, and the Gerard from before, with the wild eyes brimming with scared anger and crazy, wind-swept hair, fell back, releasing Frank as he did so.

"I don't," He said simply, voice calmer and almost spiteful. He flicked a few locks of dark hair out of his face and locked eyes with Frank. He held his gaze,

"For someone who doesn't care, you seem to care an awful lot."

Gerard snorted, "You always were into those stupid cliches, weren't you?" He broke eye contact, beginning to slowly pace, but still keeping one eye trained on Frank.

"You can't say much. Where's your little Juliet, huh, Romeo? Holed up in a nice, warm, safe home?"

He heard Gerard stop, although he was just outside of his line of vision. "No, actually," He began slowly, "He's standing on a bridge in the pouring rain, about to throw himself off."

Before Frank could even fully understand what Gerard had just said, familiar lips were being pressed against his own, warm despite the icy rain soaking both of them to the skin. He was frozen, his ability to move completely taken away along with his breath because now, right now, Gerard was back. _His_ Gerard, not anyone else's. He was kissing him again, not yelling at him or saying that horrid word "Goodbye". 

His hands moved to cup Frank's face, pulling him closer as he angled his head to one side in order to kiss him deeper. Being the total dork he was, Frank still didn't move except to close his eyes. He didn't want this moment to stop, he didn't want to return to a world where it wasn't just him and Gerard. Unfortunately, there was that little thing called 'breathing' that got in the way, and before he knew it Gerard was pulling back again. He kept his hands on his face, though, and Frank found his eyes locked once again with a pair of brown irises.

When he spoke, it was like he was talking to a child, or somebody very dumb, trying to imprint a message on their minds, "Don't. Throw. Yourself. Off. The. Bridge."

"I wasn't going to," He replied, and Gerard's eyebrows furrowed together slight. Seeing his confusion, Frank continued, "I was going to drive off, actually."

"Well don't drive off, then," He said, face still serious. Then it broke into a smile and he fell forward, laughing, into Frank's not out stretched but soon to be arms. He couldn't call it a hug, exactly - it was more like Gerard throwing himself over him, giggling like some sort of deranged man. He wrapped his arms around his waist anyway, despite having no idea what was so funny.

"I was so worried, Frank," He giggled, although his giggles sounded just the slightest bit pained. "It was ridiculous." Without really thinking about it, he began to rub his hand on Gerard's back in what he hoped was a comforting way. He hadn't seen Gerard like this before; instead of the cockiness and smooth remarks that he was usually brimming with, he seemed at a lost, overwhelmed - weaker. It was strange for him to be the one standing while the other was all over him.

The giggles stopped, and Gerard turned his head sideways, his breath warm against Frank's skin as he spoke, voice muffled slightly, "Don't do that again, Frank," It sounded like he was pleading, "Please."

Frank angled his own head to the side, pressing his lips to Gerard's head of messy, damp hair. "Sure," He replied, "For you, of course." He felt him exhale and relax in his arms. They stayed like that for a few moments, the rain having subsided to only a soft drizzle. Finally, Gerard stood up straight again, Frank's arms slipping down to return to his sides.

"We should get going," Frank spoke first, eyes still locked on Gerard, who was trying to control his mop of hair.

"Yeah...yeah..."

"Whose car?"

They both looked around. Frank's car, which was behind them, was parked messily sideways across the road, and Gerard's parking wasn't much better. How no car had come along and discovered what looked like the scene of an accident, he wasn't sure. It really was a quiet road.

"We'll, I'll take mine, since I have some...things to sort out back at home," Frank nodded, not prying further into what those 'things' were. He had an assumption, and he was fairly certain he was right. "And you can take yours and go back home. I'll meet you there soon." He smiled, that pretty smile only Gerard could pull off, and hugged Frank again. "Love you," He whispered, kissing the top of his head before stepping back again. He turned and began to walk back to his car. Before climbing in, however, he turned and added, "Just, don't try and drive off any more roads, okay?"

Frank smiled, crossing his index and middle finger over each other and raising them in the air next to him.

"I promise."


End file.
